


Reunion

by bittenfeld



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Male Slash, Sex in the command chair, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 08:11:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1503212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittenfeld/pseuds/bittenfeld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This takes place in the 1st movie universe.<br/>After the V’ger mission has ended, Kirk is sitting alone on the bridge, fondly reminiscing about having his beloved Enterprise back again, if only for a short while – until his first-officer shows up again, and it isn’t just memories that Spock wants to share...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> For my companion story that takes place in the Mirror universe, 1st movie, please see my story, “Entr'acte”

The Enterprise had been his once again, if only for a few days… she had been his, and he had served her as a man returning eagerly to a beloved mistress after ten-years’ separation. Ten years. It seemed like twenty that he’d been away from her, fated to fly a desk for the rest of his days. Admiral’s-insignia did that to a man. Locked him to a desk away from the stars, where he could sit and write protocol-and-procedures for other men who flew the ships out into the sun-studded blackness. Ten years. Seven-and-a-half as little more than Nogura’s go-fer, then the past two-and-a-half in his present position as Chief of Starfleet Operations. At least that frequently drew upon his well-amassed knowledge of tactics and strategy – but even so, it was nothing compared to dealing with actual front-line experiences.

The Enterprise now sat compliant and still in her berth back home at Spacedock-1, the massive parking-and-repair facility which floated high over San Francisco and Starfleet Command itself. The crew had all disembarked and gone home for a couple of days; and in a short while, the re-fit crews would come aboard to assess and repair the damage incurred during the Voyager-6 mission. But for right now, the silver lady belonged to him alone, and he to her.

Jim Kirk sat on the half-lit bridge and stroked a finger fondly along the arm of the command chair. He and his lady had certainly been through a lot together – five years’ worth, as well as this most-recent near-calamity – and he just wanted to sit here for awhile and commune with this great entity which owned half his soul. She might not look the same as she had during their original love-affair – as a matter of fact, even after the past four days, he still got lost on some of the decks – but she was still his lady. No matter that several other captains, including most recently Will Decker, had sat in this center-seat and commanded her power and her loyalty. She was his.

For now, the scanner screens were dark, instruments shut down or operating on automatic. Only the quiet whoosh of the air-recyclers and the faint ticking from some control panels interrupted the stillness. And he sat there and thought about how much the two of them had aged in the past ten years. And he thought about returning to his admiral’s desk tomorrow, knowing that after her repair, another captain would take her helm.

But for this short time in the silence, tomorrow didn’t have to exist.

The hum of the turbo-lift approaching the bridge caught his ear, and he glanced back over his shoulder to find out who would be intruding upon his reverie tonight. The elevator doors opened, and in the splash of the interior light onto the dimly-lit bridge, a tall spare figure stood silhouetted.

“Permission to enter, Admiral,” the husky voice of his first-officer requested.

And Kirk’s face lit with a warm eager smile of welcome, just as it had four days ago before, when that same figure, whom Kirk had not seen in ten years and never thought to see again, had appeared on the bridge from out of nowhere and returned to his science console as though there had been no interruption of a decade since he had last done so.

“Of course, come in, Spock,” Kirk acknowledged quickly, attempting to curb some of his effusiveness out of respect for Vulcan dignity. “You know you don’t have to ask permission to come onto the bridge. You belong here as much as I do.”

“I did not intend to trespass on your privacy.” The dark austere Vulcan stepped beside Kirk’s chair.

“No – no, that’s all right,” Kirk hurriedly assured. “I was just contemplating old times. Feeling a little nostalgic, I suppose.”

Spock just nodded wordlessly.

And Kirk continued to smile at him, looking him over, still delighted, still hardly able to believe that this particular being had come back into his life after all those years. Ten years with no communication, and very little third-party news. Kirk knew that his own face bore the results of the past decade – but Spock’s looked as though he had aged twice that. Gone was all trace of youthful maturity, smooth brow, eyes dancing with subtle humor. Now the weathered craggy visage bore the stigmata of hermitic deprivation, of sere desert heat and wind; the voice grated like desert sand, and the eyes no longer danced.

And yet Kirk still felt pleasure at the Vulcan’s presence, even if things weren’t the same as before – even if things would never be the same again. It was enough to see him now, to know that he still lived, that the monastery / retreat at Gol had not locked him away for an eternity of emotionless oblivion.

Ten years before, just prior to the completion of the Enterprise’s five-year mission, he and Spock had finally confessed their mutual attraction, and had made love together several times. Kirk had just assumed then that they would continue as lovers, even though his new admiralty-rank grounded him to a desk. But Spock had declined with few words of explanation, saying only that a deep need in his soul called him back to Vulcan and Gol; and shortly thereafter, Kirk had returned to Earth, and Spock to his home-planet. Even communication ceased, and Kirk was able to catch only brief news every now and then from Spock’s parents during his seclusion.

Until four days ago, when Spock had reappeared without forewarning, and Kirk’s heart had threatened to burst with happiness.

Now his heart felt just as unsteady, as his eyes drank in the sight of that desert-sere Vulcan standing beside him once again.

“Spock…” Kirk greeted, and felt a lump of emotion lodge in his throat. “I didn’t think we’d ever…” The lump was growing embarrassingly bigger.

“Jim, do not concern yourself with the past,” Spock overrode Kirk’s slight self-consciousness and choked-up voice. The thin lips did not offer a smile, but the dark alien eyes softened gently. “My spiritual growth demanded my study beneath the Masters at Gol for a certain period of my life. That period has ended now.”

Kirk glanced about the half-lit bridge, the softly glowing consoles. “I just came up here to say goodbye to the old girl again.” His gaze lingered on Spock, clouded with a little uncertainty. “I hope I don’t have to say goodbye to you again too. We’ve hardly had a chance to say hello.”

Spock shook his head. “No. I have requested duty on Earth for the time being. Admiral Nogura has intimated that they may offer me a position at Starfleet Laboratories as director of the bioengineering department. If so, I shall be stationed in San Francisco for this upcoming tour of duty.”

“Well, I certainly hope it works out – I’m sure it will.” Relief cleared hazel eyes. “These last few days have been so hectic that we haven’t had any time to get reacquainted… God, I’ve missed you, Spock, you don’t know how much.”

“I do know.” Spock rested a hand on Kirk’s shoulder, and the touch kindled a welcome warmth through Kirk’s body just as when the Vulcan had offered a handclasp of deep friendship down in Sickbay two days before. “I do know, Jim.”

Kirk smiled, a brief grin, and pressed the comforting hand. Of course Spock would know: he was a touch-telepath, and when they had grasped hands down in the infirmary, all of Kirk’s feelings would have flooded through – love, excitement, delight, and sexual memories and hopes. Quickly he insisted, “Spock, if you don’t feel that way anymore, I understand.”

“I never said that I didn’t,” Spock replied calmly. Slowly his fingers began to work the thickness of Kirk’s shoulder. “When I left, I told you that I had no regrets regarding our intimacy. That had no bearing on my need to study at Gol.”

“Would you have deliberately forgotten all about us? Could you have lived the rest of your life in purely intellectual contemplation, and never have thought about us… about me… ever again?”

The sleek dark head shook once. “At the time, I felt that intellectual contemplation was the greater reality. I came to realize that that premise was erroneous. I never did forget you or any moment that we shared. In fact, those memories gave me solace during certain… times of extreme deprivation.”

“Well, that deprivation is over now,” Kirk whispered soothingly, as the squeezing fingers worked their magic deep into his flesh. His head rested against the padded chair-back. “I’m here whenever you need me, Spock.”

Spock said nothing, but leaned down over an up-turned human face; and lips met in a long kiss of greeting. Warm loving pressure renewed everything that they had shared so long ago. A noise of contentment sounded in Kirk’s throat, and the kindled warmth spread throughout his blood, his nerves, and simmered in his loins. He could feel Spock’s body quiver with empathetic desire, and reaching up a hand to the back of his partner’s head, he pressed that lined mature face closer to his own and opened his mouth invitingly.

Spock moaned, shifted position to stand in front of the command chair between Kirk’s spread knees, gripped the armrests to brace himself, then pushed his tongue into Kirk’s mouth. Kirk’s tongue met it, welcomed it, and they tasted each other, took each other’s breath, explored wet caverns, firm teeth, soft insides of cheeks.

Then submitting to overwhelming long-denied desire, Kirk slid a few inches forward in his seat, hand moved down to Spock’s waist, squeezed pelvic crests. Responsively Spock drew up one knee onto the chair, pressed it into Kirk’s crotch, and felt Kirk’s hips lift to press even closer, even as their mouths continued to taste and suck.

Kirk took one of Spock’s hands from the chair arm; pushed it down to the bulge in his grey uniform trousers. Gently Spock’s fingers felt the swelling bulk, traced along the hardening shaft lying against Kirk’s right thigh. A desperate moan sighed from Kirk’s throat, and his hips squirmed against the soft leather seat. Those strong sensitive fingers slid over his balls, then down deeper to knead the warm spot behind his scrotum at the base of his ass. In a pleasure-daze, Kirk’s head dropped away from the kiss, and he scootched down even further in his seat to afford those tantalizing fingers more room to work in. At the same time, he reached for the opening of Spock’s trousers, undid it, and pushed his hand in to fondle warm sweat-damp Vulcan flesh.

“Jim…” Spock breathed, and nuzzled a spot beneath Kirk’s left ear.

Carefully but firmly, Kirk squeezed the heavy weight of Vulcan testicles, then drew out the half-erect Vulcan prod so he could play with it better. “You know,” he confided breathily, nipping a little kiss at Spock’s jawline, “I never thought we’d ever be doing this again.”

“Nor I,” Spock agreed, and unfastened Kirk’s uniform pants. Then taking hold of the waistband, he tugged them down, and Kirk raised up a few inches to assist him, allowing him to pull the slacks down all the way past Kirk’s knees. Next, the hem of Kirk’s tight-fitting grey tunic was pushed up a few inches.

Then Spock stood up and surveyed his handiwork; and only now, finally, did that deeply-graven countenance ease slightly with a very subtle smile.

Kirk’s own smile wasn’t nearly as subtle. Sitting there in the darkened deserted bridge, half-off his command chair, naked from the waist to the knees, sweaty and aroused and breathing hard – his first-officer watching with lust-burning eyes, half-out of his own pants – Kirk suddenly had a most amusing perverted thought: what if Old Man Nogura chose this moment to call up on the video comm-link with some innocuous last-minute news? Kirk wondered which one of them would be the most-flushed with shock and embarrassment. Oh well, if it happened, it happened. Kirk had far more important concerns to occupy his mind right now. Like that first-officer of his watching with lust-filled eyes.

“Do you like what you see, Commander?” he inquired directly.

“Very much, Admiral,” his first-officer reported promptly.

… and the sound of that voice, raspy now, yet still so comfortingly familiar, excited Kirk’s penis to arch upward a few more degrees, and Kirk decided that it wouldn’t take much more to make him come tonight. He began to stroke the shaft himself while Spock observed, one hand slowly pumping, the other squeezing his testicles. In his arousal, he could feel a few drops of fluid ooze from his urethral slit.

Hastily Spock pushed down his own uniform trousers, then turned around between Kirk’s knees and sat down in Kirk’s lap.

“Oh, Spock…” Kirk breathed his excitement at the touch of skin on skin and the weight of his lover’s body on his thighs, and his penis jumped involuntarily. Spock didn’t respond, but reached back for the pulsing human organ and sat up a little until the slick swollen glans prodded against his anus. Eagerly Kirk began to hump, body quivering with anticipation, while Spock spread himself as best he could and exerted steady downward pressure against the stiff shaft. And then the tight little muscular ring gave way, and the penile head pushed through.

Sharp gasps of shock and exquisite pleasure escaped them both; then firmly, intently, they began rocking in counterpoint to full copulation. Sweet aching need throbbed in Kirk’s loins as he rhythmically forced his organ deeper and deeper into a slick rectum already wet with excitement and desire. Spock slammed down on him again and again, flesh slapping together over and over, as they tried to make up for ten years lost, but of course they couldn’t; and because of the overly-keen excitement, Kirk orgasmed hard and vigorously, and too soon, much too soon. Nevertheless, the sudden ecstatic surge thrust him to nearly transcendent heights as his fluid spurted into a welcoming moist channel, pumped out of him; and then as he slowly came back down to normality, he realized that Spock had climaxed too – his orgasm triggered by Kirk’s hot bursts up his rectum.

Carefully Spock disengaged, then turned slightly in Kirk’s lap. In one cupped hand glistened an amount of pale-green creamy fluid; he held it up to Kirk’s face, and willingly Kirk lapped up the Vulcan semen, eyes never leaving Spock’s penetrating gaze, as his tongue licked the proffered hand clean. Then Spock lowered his head, and they kissed long and deep, and shared the sweet / bitter taste of their communion.

And for several lingering minutes, they sat there alone together in the half-light and quiet on the bridge of their ship, and renewed their friendship with whispered words and gentle kisses and languid caresses.

Until finally Spock found enough energy to stand and began straightening his disarrayed clothing. “Shall I leave and let you return to your contemplation?” he offered politely. “Do you wish to remain on board a little while longer?”

“No,” Kirk declined, standing also to fasten his pants and tug his uniform tunic back down. “I’ve said my goodbye to the Enterprise. Now I’m ready to go home,” – a twinkle in hazel eyes – “and say another hello to you.”

And then his gaze softened, and his hands stroked down strong slender arms as though to reassure himself of his friend’s solidity and real live presence. “Thank you, Spock,” he whispered fondly, “for coming back to me.”

“Jim,” the husky voice murmured, and the sharply-chiseled face relaxed into a gentle smile, “I never left.”

  
* * * * * **FINIS** * * * * *

 


End file.
